Cold Fiche and Hot Flashes
by rubyliss
Summary: Leonard Snart confronts Barry Allen on his home turf-the Central City Police Department-to make a deal that leads to a more intimate relationship.


Title: Cold Fiche and Hot Flashes

By: Ruby Lis

Pairing: Coldflash (Barry Allen/Leonard Snart)

Rating: Mature

Length: Short

For: Thecottoncandyzombie for sparking the idea and lizzypoodle for beta reading the first draft—thank you!

Barry Allen, a/k/a The Flash, a/k/a the fastest man alive, was late. Again. Still, he lingered in the sheets, reluctant to let last night's dream fade so quickly into oblivion. His body certainly wasn't letting it go. Barry groaned as he reached down to mimic the actions in his dream—Leonard Snart jerking him off. God, he had been so good. So sure of himself with every stroke. And when the weight of his body pressed against Barry's…and Len's mouth had found his before sucking and tonguing a path down Barry's body…

The phone rang. His foster dad's ringtone. Definite mood killer. Barry grunted his frustration as he glanced at Joe's text asking where he was before he hurried to shower, dress and report to work like a responsible adult.

Any hope of sneaking into the Crime Lab without anyone noticing vanished as soon as Captain Singh bellowed across the squad room and singled him out.

"Allen!"

Sheepishly, Barry turned from the stairs and redirected his steps to the squad room. He expected to feel the gaze of all the detectives, especially his foster father Det. Joe West, weighing on him as the captain reprimanded him. To his surprise, all the detectives seemed too preoccupied with a dozen or so handcuffed men and women to notice him.

"What's up?"

"Vice raided a pea shake house on the south side. Along with the illegal gambling, they uncovered a money laundering operation. Some of the bills match the serial numbers from the Central City Bank & Trust robberies. I want buccal swabs on everyone."

Barry nodded. "I'll get the kits and be back in a flash." He laughed to himself at his own pun.

The buccal swabs were easy enough but with so many people to be tested, it took a while. Barry didn't mind. Losing himself in the routine of reading the rights, the waiver and taking the actual samples forced him to focus on work and not a would be rendezvous with the criminal of his dreams. Barry snapped off his latex gloves and disposed of them in the biohazard trash bin. "Finished."

"You get the one across the hall?" Det. Ramirez asked without looking up from the paperwork he was filling out on his computer screen.

"Where?"

"The Quiet Room. We ran out of space on this side."

Barry nodded. "I'm on it."

He checked to make sure he had another pair of gloves, a buccal swab kit, and his paperwork before heading out the door and down the hall to the Victim's Assistance Unit. The Quiet Room was a small, soundproofed room with an overstuffed loveseat, chair, low coffee table and water cooler. His chest tightened as he walked down the carpeted corridor. The Quiet Room was used to tell grieving families of the worst crimes that had happened to their loved ones. With no cameras, no windows and a door that locked from inside, it was the one private room in the CCPD.

Whatever Barry expected when he walked in, it wasn't to see Leonard Snart stretching out his long, lean frame before settling catlike back into the armchair. A chair, Barry realized, that was the same striking shade of blue as his eyes. Snart watched Barry's movements, amused and curious. He sat with his knees spread and one arm draped casually across the back of the chair. His other hand rested comfortably in the curve of his upper thigh and hip, unconsciously drawing Barry's gaze to the cock pressing against his perfectly fitted pants. Barry's face warmed when he realized he was staring. He quickly looked up. From the smirk on Len's face, he knew exactly how he was affecting Barry.

"Snart."

"Barry."

Barry busied himself with setting up his supplies. "What are you doing here?"

"Cooling my heels." The annoyance in Snart's voice was obvious.

Barry snapped on a new pair of latex gloves. "This won't take long. I just need to get a DNA sample."

Len's eyes flicked to Barry and then to the items he had set on the table. "Rubber gloves. Hand lotion. Paper towels." He studied his surroundings. "Soundproof room. Sturdy furniture." His eyes met Barry's gaze again and his mouth curved into a knowing smile. "This could be fun."

The room suddenly seemed very small and very warm. Barry moved to the other side of the table in front of the loveseat, putting what little space he could between himself and Snart.

"Okay, this is a Consent to Search form." From the corner of his eye, Barry saw Len slither out of his parka. "The Central City Police Department advises as follows." Another glance. Len wore a low vee neck, body skimming knit shirt in a light blue gray color that revealed a teasing glimpse of darker hair against his pale chest. "You have the right to request that a search warrant be obtained before providing a DNA sample."

"Not necessary."

Barry nodded, checking off that point. "You have the right to have an attorney present now before providing a sample of your DNA via a buccal swab. If you cannot afford an attorney, you have the right to have one appointed for you before providing a sample of your DNA." Barry glanced up. "Do you understand? You have to answer out loud, yes or no."

"Yes," Len drew the word out in a way that managed to be both mocking and seductive.

"This form also says car or address but this search is limited to…it's gonna be a body search only…" Len chuckled. The laugh, warm and open instead of derisive, sent an unexpected spark of desire through Barry. "I need to take a swab of your mouth."

Len leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I'll open wide."

Barry bit his lip, fighting not to rise to Len's baiting. He slid the paper across the table. "If you agree to the search, you need to sign and date it at the bottom."

Len accepted the pen Barry offered, letting his fingers linger as their hands brushed against each other before quickly signing the paper. He handed it back. "I have no problem with you searching me, Barry." He reached for the buccal swab, unwrapped it and rolled it in his mouth like a piece of candy.

"No, wait, stop! You're not supposed to suck on it."

Len slowly drew the buccal swab from his mouth, dragging it roughly down his tongue before pulling it out with a wet pop. "My bad."

"Maybe I should do it."

"I'm all yours." Len sprawled in the chair giving Barry ample access to every part of his body.

Barry prepared a fresh buccal swab, taking care not to contaminate it. He moved between Len's thighs, conscious of the heat radiating from the other man's body as he leaned in to take the sample. He used one hand to brace himself against Len's jaw. With the other, he slid the swab into Len's mouth to collect his cheek cells. The scent of aftershave. The press of Len's hands on his hips to steady him. The unmistakable desire darkening Len's eyes.

Barry's dream came rushing back with startling clarity and he stepped back abruptly, nearly tripping until Len caught him. He retreated back to the safety of the loveseat. After letting the swab dry, he sealed it in the sample box and had Len sign it and mark it with his thumbprint.

"Okay, that should do it." Barry managed a fake smile. "I'll tell the detectives we're done. Someone will be with you before too long."

"Slow your roll, kid." Len stretched his feet across the coffee table, blocking Barry's exit. "We're not finished here."

"Yeah, Snart, we are." Irritated, more at himself than Len, Barry shoved his feet aside and reached for the door.

"The banks have no records of any accounts in my name, so I'm broke. The security systems on my safehouses no longer recognize my fingerprints or retinal scan, so I'm homeless."

Barry let go of the doorknob and turned. "I did exactly what you asked me to do."

"True. But the lack of identification has proven to have—disadvantages."

Barry snorted, amused at Snart being inconvenienced. Captain Cold had outsmarted himself. "Imagine that."

"Imagine this, Barry. A man with no resources can become desperate. And a desperate man will risk anything because he has nothing to lose."

"You said no more killing."

"I don't have to kill to make someone wish he was dead."

"I'll stop you."

"Will you? What if I get hurt in the process? Would you save even me?"

"Absolutely."

"How? No hospital has any record of me. Blood type. Allergic reactions. Health issues. Tick-tock, Barry. The last seconds of my life are running out in your hands."

Barry let the implications of that sink in. He wouldn't let Leonard Snart die, not because of something he did. "I'll restore your medical and criminal data."

"I want everything."

Barry shook his head. "No."

Len reached into his parka and pulled out a small piece of plastic about the size of a half sheet of paper with darker pieces of film embedded in it. "Recognize this?"

"Microfiche?" Barry guessed, it was old technology that had long been surpassed by more modern digital techniques.

"Complete blueprints to the Central City Bank & Trust on Second Avenue." Len paused, appreciating the look of shock on Barry's face. A second later, before he could blink, Barry had flashed over and snatched the fiche from his hand. Len had expected no less.

He continued, unfazed by Barry's move. "I have the layouts to every bank, every government office, every city official's residence in Central City." Len leaned back in his chair. "And I'm willing to offer that information to the highest bidder. I've already received a very generous offer for the Iron Heights blueprints."

"That's illegal!"

"That is city government at its finest. Your planning department requires full blueprints on any structure erected within the city limits. Originally, those documents were filmed and saved on microfiche. It costs money to store fiche, Barry. Money the city council decided to spend elsewhere. And since the files were converted to digital records, why not sell the microfiche as historical documents and make a few bucks?"

Barry snorted, disbelieving. "You want me to believe you just bought them?"

Len's mouth quirked, amused at his nemesis' reaction. "Along with a glass paperweight Lisa had her heart set on. Happy to show you the receipt." His voice hardened. "Once I have access to my home."

"If I agree, what happens to the microfiche?"

Len shrugged. "Mick's been itching for a bonfire."

Barry nodded. "I wanna be there to make sure you keep your word."

"Fine. Bring marshmallows." Len's mouth curved into a sly smile at the not so subtle reminder of his recent visit to Barry's house. He tilted his head, studying Barry with an unreadable expression. "Now, how do we seal the deal?"

"You wanna shake on it?" Barry rolled his eyes but offered his hand, a half-hearted gesture at best.

Len accepted his hand, using it as leverage as he stepped onto the coffee table then over, crowding Barry until he fell back against the loveseat. Len separated Barry's thighs then moved in to cover Barry's body with his own. He planted his hands on either side of Barry's shoulders in a half push-up that left only their hips and thighs touching. "We can do better than a handshake."

"We can't—"

"This is a one time offer." Len's mouth ghosted over Barry's. "And it expires soon." He teased his tongue along Barry's bottom lip, wetting it before taking the damp flesh between his teeth and tugging. Groaning, Barry sank into the cushions. Len followed him down. "We can," he murmured as he pressed his lips to Barry's throat, then kissed along the soft underside of his jaw before letting his teeth graze Barry's ear, "do much better."

Barry's mind raced with all of the reasons this was a bad idea. He was at work and on the clock for starters.

Len's long fingers, so nimble at cracking safes, quickly unbuckled and discarded Barry's belt.

Barry pressed his hands to Len's chest in a futile attempt to stop or at least slow things down until he could process his thoughts. Iris would kill him.

Len unbuttoned and unzipped Barry's pants.

Caitlin and Cisco would kill him.

Barry lifted his hips to let Len slide his jeans down to his thighs. His mind might think this was a bad idea but his body was more than ready to find out if the real Leonard Snart was as good as the dream version.

"You wanted a sample of my DNA, Barry, only fair I sample yours."

Any further protest Barry might have offered cut off into a strangled, unintelligible grunt as Len deep throated him in one move. Len flattened his tongue against the underside of Barry's cock as he slid his mouth along the shaft and back to the head. Sighing, Barry dropped his head to the thick, cushioned back of the loveseat. Len sealed his lips around Barry's tip, flicking his tongue across the slit then pulling his cock in deeper to suck on the ridge.

Barry's eyes drifted shut. The tension of the past several weeks began to unwind and drain out of him. He reached for Len. His fingers brushed the back of Len's head and he rested his hand against his feathery buzzed hair. He let his touch wander and soon found a sensitive spot on the back of Len's neck.

Len jerked back, shivering in unexpected pleasure as Barry's fingers brushed just below his hairline. Barry reached for him. Len willingly repositioned himself on the loveseat. Len leaned over to take Barry's cock in his mouth again, redoubling his efforts when Barry began licking then sucking on the back of Len's neck.

Barry experimented with his movements. The ragged, half-choked gasps Len made when Barry licked his nape were nothing compared to the desperate, almost pleading whines that came when he took the soft skin between his teeth. There were definitely going to be bruises in the morning. The idea of Len being marked by him, possessed by him, finally losing control and coming undone as Barry fucked him senseless was Barry's own undoing.

"Oh, God-!"

Barry dropped his hand to Len's shoulder in a tight grip, hips bucking as Len met him stroke for stroke, swallowing around him as he came.

Len sat back, eyeing Barry with smug satisfaction. He waited until the dazed look left Barry's face and he seemed capable of coherent thought again.

"And you wanted a handshake."

Barry looked sheepishly at Len. "But you didn't—"

Len shrugged, lips quirking into a half smile as he gingerly rubbed his neck. "You can finish what you started at the bonfire." He stood and shrugged into his parka, cool demeanor returning. "After you restore my data." He gestured at Barry. "You have something in your bag of tricks to clean up?"

Barry nodded. "Biohazard wipes."

Len walked over to the coffee table and Barry's CSI bag. Inside, he found the wipes and tossed them over so Barry could clean up then got a cup of water for himself from the cooler. Barry packed the wipes up into a disposable bag. Wordlessly, he gathered the rest of his supplies. Whatever brief, intense moment of intimacy they'd had was quickly replaced with cool detachment on Len's part and an awkward return to business on Barry's.

"I'll take you back to the detectives."

They walked back to the squad room. Det. Ramirez started to come over but Capt. Singh waved him off. "Mr. Snart, if you'll come with me, we have an interview room available now."

"You want to talk to me, Captain, call my attorney." He winked at Barry.

"I don't give up the goods to just anyone." With that, he turned and left.

Barry glanced at the Captain. "You're letting him leave?"

Captain Singh shrugged. "What do we charge him with? Frequenting a common nuisance? He'd be out before we finished the paperwork." He nodded towards the buccal swab kit. "You get what you needed?"

"Yeah." Barry watched Leonard Snart saunter out into the lobby, his heart still racing from their encounter. He certainly had gotten what he needed, Barry thought to himself.

THE END


End file.
